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Whispers of the crimson rose  Novel Cover

Whispers of the crimson rose

In the lethal city of Elysara, Seraphina unexpectedly inherits the Crimson Rose, an ancient force that can either preserve her nation or incinerate it. When the cruel Black Veil hunts her to seize this power, she enters a precarious pact with Cassian, a shadowy warrior. As they evade relentless enemies, Seraphina discovers a chilling reality: the greatest danger isn't the looming war, but her own terrifying transformation that threatens to destroy everything.
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Chapter 7

The cold bite of dawn crept along the horizon as the trio emerged from the ruins. Seraphina  pulled her cloak tighter, her breath misting in the frigid air. Solen led the way, his gait swift and focused, while Cassian walked beside her, his hand brushing hers from time to time as if silently reminding her she wasn't alone.

 The path north was long and twisted, etched through forgotten forest trails and frost-dusted glens. Birds stirred in the canopy, but no song came. The woods were holding their breath, the magic in Seraphina's blood humming in tune with the world around her.

Cassian broke the silence. Ashreach is a city of masks. Nobles, spies, mercenaries. Everyone's playing a game there.

Solen smirked over his shoulder. Which is why we'll fit right in.

Seraphina  looked between them. And we're just walking into it?We're not walking, Solen said, pausing by a hidden path covered in winter thorns. We're sneaking. There's someone in Ashreach I trust. Barely. He owes me a favor.

 Seraphina raised a brow. A favor or a debt? Solen grinned. Both.

 They pressed on, the terrain shifting as they neared the outer edge of the city. Ashreach wasn't visible yet, but the change in air said enough. The ground grew harder, the forest thinner. Magic was thinner here, but not absent. Seraphina  could feel it-faint, lingering, like smoke after fire.

 By mid-afternoon, towers pierced the sky in the distance. Ashreach.

The city loomed on jagged cliffs, half carved into stone, half crawling skyward with black iron and glimmering glass. It was beautiful and brutal, regal and cruel. A place where fortunes were made-or stolen.

 Cassian stepped closer. This city devours the weak, Seraphina .

She met his gaze. Then I'll make sure I'm not one of them.

The city gates were not meant for travelers like them. Solen led them toward a lesser-known entrance a forgotten postern path carved beneath the cliff, cloaked by sea mist and jagged stone. A narrow ledge curved dangerously above crashing waves.

 Don't look down, Solen muttered, inching along.

 Seraphina swallowed her fear. The sea roared below, hungry and endless. Cassian took her hand silently, guiding her step by step.

At the end of the ledge, a rusted grate sealed the tunnel mouth. Solen bent low, muttered something in an old tongue, and the metal groaned open, revealing a dark stairwell.

The old smugglers' route, he said. Still works. Barely.

They slipped into the shadowed tunnel. It smelled of damp stone and secrets. As they emerged hours later in the lower quarters of Ashreach, the city welcomed them with chaos. Smoke curled from chimneys. Lanterns lit narrow alleys. Vendors barked at passersby. The air pulsed with music, shouting, and the stink of ambition. The lower district Dagger's Hollow was a warren of crime and coin. Thieves danced in silk. Beggars sold secrets. Everyone watched, and no one blinked.

 Solen led them through twisted streets until they reached a crooked inn The Broken Feather.

 Its sign hung lopsided, its windows cracked, but it pulsed with warmth and noise. Inside, the innkeeper, a wiry man with ink-stained fingers, froze at the sight of Solen.

You, he said. You're supposed to be dead. Aren't we all?

Solen replied with a tired smile.

They were given a room upstairs. Cassian double-locked the door, then turned to Seraphina . You sure about this path?

  No,she said softly. But I'm done running. If Ashreach holds answers, I want them.

 From the street below, a scream echoed-brief and sharp. Welcome to Ashreach.

 The scream that sliced through the street below was quickly swallowed by the noise of the Hollow, like a breath caught in the city's throat. Seraphina rushed to the window. A dark figure disappeared into the alley's bend. No one chased. No one screamed again.

This city's broken, she whispered.

Cassian joined her, arms crossed. It's not broken. It was built this way-layered in silence. Solen returned with a battered map. He spread it across the room's floor, candlelight casting trembling shadows. The Black Archive, he said, tapping a spot near the heart of Ashreach. Guarded. Cursed. But it has what you need answers about the Crimson Rose, about your bloodline. Seraphina leaned in. And what else?

 Solen's gaze didn't waver. A name. The one who betrayed your mother. The one who burned the Sanctum and framed you. Cassian tensed. Why haven't you told us this before?

Because I wasn't sure until today. And because knowing that name makes you a target for more than the empire. Solen looked at Seraphina . It draws the Hollow Court.

The words fell like frost.

  The Hollow Court whispers of them echoed through every back alley of the empire. Faceless. Deadly Powerbrokers of the city's darkest magic and dirtiest gold.

Seraphina  sat back, pulse pounding. And why would they want me? Solen rolled up the map.

 Because you're fire wrapped in silk. Because your mother was once one of them."

The room fell into stunned silence.

Outside, Ashreach pulsed. The city didn't wait for anyone.

 Seraphina stood. Then we find the Archive. Cassian reached for his blade. And we do it before the Court finds us.

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